


A New Dawn

by Scribblesinink (Scribbler)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbler/pseuds/Scribblesinink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rescuing a dog wasn't part of the plan, but Tig finds it's the right choice for more reasons than he could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Tanaqui for betaing.

_Dawn_.

Tig, leading the dog from the truck, stopped where he was as the name popped into his head, considering. People'd give him shit if he named the bitch after his dead kid, for sure.

_Let them_.

The name was right; he knew it in his gut. He'd fallen in love with the dog the instant he'd spotted her in the pit fighting for her life, flanks heaving and bloodied. Saving her had been atonement for failing to save his daughter. Not enough―never enough―but a small step.

The dog had paused along with him, panting slightly as she stood next to him in the driveway, stubby tail quivering. He snorted; damned bitch was too trusting. No wonder she'd made such a lousy fighter. Nah, to survive in the pit, a dog had to be more like him: vicious, mean, able to put all thought away and do what had to be done. Whether it was shooting some prison guard's bitch in the head, or killing the nigger OG from Oaktown, that fucker who'd burned―.

Cold and wet touched his hand, a stark contrast with the remembered heat of the flames. Looking down, Tig saw he'd curled his hands into tight fists, knuckles white. The dog―Dawn―was worming her nose into the hollow at his pinky. He forced his muscles to go slack and unbent his fingers. A lick of his palm was his reward. 

Tig laughed. "C'mon, Dawnie." He tested the name out loud, liking the way it sounded. "Let's get you home." 

He closed the last few feet to the front door, the dog's claws clicking on the stones as she followed. When he unlocked the door, she brushed past him, instantly setting out to investigate her new surroundings, sniffing every inch of the floor and furniture.

Tig kept an eye on her as he fetched himself a beer from the fridge. Missy's dog bed was in the basement, and there should be a bag of dog cookies somewhere, left from before. They'd be stale, but they'd do for tonight. Tomorrow, he'd get her some new stuff.

One of those cones, too, he decided, catching the dog nipping at the stitches Chibs had put into her hide to close the bite wounds. "I'mma take good care o' you, girl," he promised, scritching her behind the ears. She leaned into his hand, seeming to enjoy the attention. "Real good care."

Plopping down on the sofa, he patted the cushion next to him in invitation. The dog didn't need asking twice, hopping up and curling herself against his flank, pushing at him with her nose to remind him to go on petting her. Tig obliged, chugging absently from his beer. 

For the first time since Dawn had died, he felt at peace.


End file.
